


Bringing Disease to the Surface

by becuzmdsaidineededpersonality



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, rating for game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24263986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becuzmdsaidineededpersonality/pseuds/becuzmdsaidineededpersonality
Summary: There are more skeletons in the closet than one originally would think.
Relationships: Amanda De Santa/Michael De Santa, Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips, Patricia Madrazo/Trevor Philips
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

_The entire situation was interesting, to say the least. A simple bank heist. While not simple. Not simple in a way of mathematics and planning simple. But simple in how the job was supposed to be clean. However, the guy they brought with them, Bruiser, was suspicious. It was a good thing Trevor had noticed it too because as the three of them were loading the money into the back of the van with the getaway driver out of the corner of his eye Trevor watched Bruiser raise the pistol to Michael's head and without hesitation Trevor turned and blew his fucking brains all over the pavement._

_Michael flinched and turned with blood and guts all over his back and just stared at the body for a few seconds before Trevor loaded the rest of the money and pulled Michael into the van and tapped for the getaway driver to start moving._

_"You alright M?"_

_"Yeah. The fuck was that all about T."_

_"Need to open your damn eyes, Michael. Almost got your head blown off. I'm always saving your ass."_

_That was when Trevor first realized how easily Michael could be taken from him. One wrong deal, one wrong setup, one wrong move, one wrong person. Trevor had to be more careful and watch more closely at these things as Lester clearly hadn't given a fuck enough to make sure that this Bruiser fucker was worth their time. Trevor was done with his shit anyways. No qualms about putting a bullet in his fucking forehead here._

_The entire thing had shaken up Michael a little more than he liked to admit as he went to shower almost immediately when they got back to the room and being fucking dramatic as always proceeded to throw out his bloody clothes. Honestly. Bit of an overreaction in Trevor's opinion. Way to pin the entire thing on "Trevor's craziness" when Michael should have been watching his back in the first place. Jesus. Trevor went to go lay down and shuffle through channels._

_Of course, Michael more than made up for it later on. After putting on an adorable pair of pizza pajama bottoms and a button-up shirt Michael surprised him by slipping into Trevor's bed rather than his own. They were still separated by a space though that Trevor desperately wanted to close. But Michael pushed things and then pulled away just as quickly. Little things like holding Trevor's hands in a snowstorm because it was "cold out and frostbite is a bitch" or when Michael's fingers lingered too long on bandaging a bruise. Little things like Michael's nervous neck tick he did after punching someone or that little look of shame he did when he felt guilt or remorseful about something or when somebody touched his back how he would tense up as though somebody had repeatedly taken off his shirt and beat him with a belt until his soft skin resembled a deer carcass rather than a human back in the past._

_Michael probably had experienced the latter part. Soft but strong underneath. So much Michael kept from him and everyone else in the world but little by little he was letting Trevor in more and more. Like now._

_They watched some of the trashy shows. Princess Robot Bubblegum, Imponent Rage, Fame or Shame. Trevor didn't remember what they talked about exactly. All he remembered was how every time he looked away Michael seemed to be moving closer. He was hesitating nervously like. As though testing the waters. It took everything in Trevor not to pull that dumbass to his side when he released what Michael was doing. Michael wanted closeness. Something he had been lacking as a kid most likely._

_What had Michael gone through? What shadows were hiding in that mind of his and darkening the doorways of his soul he insisted on keeping closed to the world? Trevor understood. You begin to understand a lot of things when your father abandons you in a shopping mall for over sixteen hours, when your mom wants to do a "fun and new" activity that will forever label you a motherfucker that every cruel joker on the street seems to know about and taunt you with their empty profanities, when your third "father" leaves you bleeding on the floor of the shower for over four hours, when you are beaten beyond recognition that the CPS agent who is just mindlessly doing their job has to turn away from and when you see your hated sibling turn up from the water blue-faced and not breathing._

_That was the strange thing about Michael. He needed something from Trevor. He was slowly moving closer to him because he needed closeness from a disturbed person a Candian Royal Air Force psychiatrist had once called "irredeemable and repulsive in every way." People looked at him in fear and they had every reason to. People avoided criticizing him to his face. He always saw humans but he never got to see or experience humanity's great qualities of love and compassion only fear and terror. But not Michael. Here Michael was laying centimeters away from Trevor's side and nervously gazing at him._

_Trevor moved the arm closest to Michael up to the pillows above his head so Michael could move closer. They both had no idea what the hell they were doing but it still meant something._

_Michael pressed his chest against Trevor's side and the heat of his body rippled into Trevor's like a warm shower. He thought he had flinched at first from the contact but realized that it was actually Michael who did. Slow and steady T. Slow and steady._

_Trevor then turned to allow Michael's right arm to come to rest on his stomach and he quickly caged it in there with his own arm. Trevor was trying to convey trust to Michael physically. He trusted Michael not to hurt him by turning his face away from him. Trust that Michael would return in little things over the next few years of their relationship. Michael's hand moved slowly up to Trevor's chest in the middle of his rib cage as he pulled him closer and coming to rest his face in the nape of Trevor's neck and his warm breath was there. It was done with such tenderness and care both things Trevor was not accustomed to handling._

_Trevor then was able to lay his face on Michael's arm. His skin smelled of cheap hotel soap and cigarettes and was still warm from the shower. No one had ever gotten this close to Trevor if he hadn't paid them to do so. It felt so nice. Really fucking nice. He fell into a soft gentle sleep like that._

_If you had told Trevor that this would have been the man to betray him worse than anyone else ever had in his entire life Trevor would have beat you, dismembered you and sent you floating down the river before laughing at the illogical conclusions your silly mind had come to. But then again people aren't what they seem._

"Who the fuck is this?"

"The guy keeping you out of the gas chamber. Townley's on his way. We need to talk face to face. Warehouse off Dutch London in Banning."

This guy sounded like an asshole. Trevor didn't even need to see his face to know that. "Oh, we can do more than talk my friend." The phone just hung up after that. No scared begs for mercy or even a slight hint of fear. Not even a sigh of annoyance. Perhaps he was losing his edge. Trevor did seem to mellow with age. 

_Jesus Christ Michael. The fuck did you wrap me into this time?_ Trevor thought to himself as he drove over to the shady place the fucker had told him to go to. 

Something was going on. He didn't know what but he had a feeling he was about to find out very soon. 

When Trevor found out Michael was alive he had a mixture of three emotions. Happiness, anger, and something he almost never felt, regret. Only Michael Townley could. 

Fortunately, he had a bunch of biker pricks to take it out on. Of course, he hadn't really meant to start that whole gang war but it was Johnny's fault for getting all butthurt about a meanlingless business deal with his slut of a girlfriend who ended up dying from a drug overdose a few weeks later anyway. Then he had the whole fiasco with the O Neil Brothers stealing his business. Besides Michael might not even be alive and perhaps Trevor had officially lost his mind. 

But then again he sent out Wade to go investigate who did confirm his suspicious. 

And then came the sadness. Deep sadness. More pain than when Michael was "shot dead" right in front of him. 

Okay maybe not that bad but still. There was at least hope there when he found out Michael was alive. He even practiced and screamed at the city. 

Yeah just kidding. He hoped Michael was alive so he could tear out his esophagus and watch him bleed to death all over the front porch of wherever the fuck he was. 

Rockford Hills. Probably had a mansion of some sort. Michael with a bunch of fucking plastic yogis. What was this fucking world coming to?

And now Trevor also had to deal with fucking Floyd as well. As if Wade wasn't a handful enough. Oh and apparently he had to deal with Ron's abusive ex-wife and his divorce settlements. Damn. Michael had a lot of fucking explaining to do which he had gotten none of. 

"Witness Protection" was about the only thing he got. Also, Michael apparently sucked as a father and a husband and was still letting Amanda and the kids walk all over him. Again. Perhaps he should introduce Ron and Michael. Push Michael in the right direction of not being a total beta male.

And Lazlow. Fuck that guy too. It wasn't any fun when Michael wasn't playing along. And then despite all that whenever he tried to call Michael to give him some kind of fucking explanation on what the fuck was going on Michael was apparently "busy." 

Oh, and Lester knew Michael was alive this entire time. He just didn't know Trevor was around. That fucking weasel. Why? Why? Why? 

Michael trusted him over his best friend. Trevor just could not understand it. And who the fuck were these new guys Michael had done that jewlery store job with? What the actual fuck was going on?

After the whole Fame or Shame fiasco and after Michael blocking every call Trevor decided if he couldn't get Michael for an explanation he could ask Jimmy who apparently didn't know anything either. Or at least he said so. Those uhhs and ums weren't really helping convenience Trevor that Jimmy was completely oblivious to what was going on. He really took after his father in the whole sucking at the lying department. Or maybe it was just the cannabis. The only thing Michael told him was that his son has a chronic drug problem. Great. Good one Michael. ARUGH. 

Then there was that whole helicopter disaster of a mission thing and that fucking new kid. Franklin. He didn't seem so bad once they established that Trevor was Michael's BEST FRIEND and Franklin was just the understudy who could never have what Michael and Trevor had and if he tried to there might be dire consequences. Franklin seemed to get the message. 

Michael also was acting fishy about Brad. Trevor made sure to slingshot him into every conversation they had. He obviously was clearly jealous that Trevor and Brad were writing to each other. To be fair if Brad died tomorrow Trevor won't give a shit but this was all he had to get close to Michael or at least make him jealous. It seemed to be working. He still owed Trevor that drink anyhow. 

By the time Trevor had pulled up to the sketchy ass warehouse, Michael was already there lighting one up. 

"Mikey." 

Michael, of course, ignored him as per fucking usual. Urgh. Except for that nervous tick. At least this time Trevor could force him to hang out this time. Looks like Franklin wasn't around. Good.

Trevor rolled his eyes. "You gotta quit that shit man."

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, I know." 

"I take speed mostly and look at me. Boom. Best shape of my life." He makes a point of making a big show out of it fists raised and all. 

Michael looks him up and down and agrees with a little half-hearted "Yeah."

"Yeah, I could still take you sugar tits."

"That's because you're fucking deranged. Not because you're in good shape." Well some things haven't changed. 

"Hey, why don't you stick to doing the fucking crutches and feeling bad about yourself. Alright pork chop?" 

Trevor turned to march up the stairs before him. This was a sketchy ass government shenanigan ploy and Michael was still his best friend. His best friend who apparently wasn't in the best shape emotionally, physically, or anything else for that matter. The Michael Towley from North Yankton was the best and most clever out of all the criminals. But Michael De Santa was a depressed borderline suicidal alcoholic with no purpose who was carrying half the fucking city on his shoulders like he was some sort of cosmic caregiver. Clearly could not be trusted to keep himself safe if this turned out to be a stickup. Good thing he had Trevor. Good old reliable BEST FRIEND Trevor. 

"Hey fuck you."

Trevor turned and gave him a hard glare "You know I'm beginning to think that is exactly what you want to do." He wasn't wrong. Michael not returning his calls and keeping all these secrets like this was fucking middle school who has a crush on who. 

"Yeah, Jesus...I just said the same fucking thing to my wife."

Trevor turned to look at him for a second and then proceeded to open the door while moving a hand behind him to shove Michael back if things got ugly. Just like in the old days. 

_"T would you please calm the fuck down?"_

_"M would you please stop flinching so I can get that bullet out of your shoulder? Or better yet open your fucking eyes every once in a while so you don't get shot?"_   
  


_Trevor practically had to sit on top of Michael to keep him from squirming around. This wasn't just about physical pain. Michael didn't like being in a vulnerable position like this. Trevor got it. But it served him right for being such a fucking dumbass. Running in plain sight and not even attempting to take cover when the fucking police were coming. Trevor moved closer to the open wound and pressed down further before pouring more alcohol into the open wound which caused Michael to violently flinch and earned a small slap on the shoulder blade from Trevor._

_"I feel like you're making this hurt more than you have to you fucking asshole!" Michael growled._

_Trevor pretended to not be offended. "I'm your best friend. Why would I do that?"_

_"Because you freaked the fuck out over a small shoulder wound."_

_If he didn't like Michael-_

_"Yeah, that's pretty reasonable to get the fuck upset over! Especially when you hide it from me and could have bleed to death! Also, guess what is about 41 centimeters from this bullet wound! Your fucking forehead!"_

_"Wait how did you-"_

_"Its simple math Michael. Considering what a smartass you can be I assume you finished high school and I didn't even do that. So please for the love of God use that clever brain of yours."_

_"You're about to see that my brain isn't the only muscle in my body that I put to good use."_

_"Touched a nerve I see."_

_"Fuck you! You don't see me diving into your personal history."_

_"No, but I have been nothin but true and straight with you. You never talk about yourself. Forgive me for making assumptions to fill those holes."_

_Michael was eerily quiet until the bullet was out and the stitches were in. It wasn't until Trevor was wrapping his arm in loincloth that Michael finally said something so quiet Trevor almost missed it. "I used to play high school football. I was a quarterback. Could never play nice with the other kids and was constantly getting injuried cause of it. Messed up this shoulder and my upper back cause of it. And my hamstring. And my right knee cap. And I have a crack in my skull."_

_Trevor couldn't help but smirk as he softened out gaze and slowly took himself off of Michael's stomach to lay beside him. "I mean I once shoved a hockey stick up my dick of a coach's ass."_

_He hears Michael chuckle beside him at that. He wasn't horrified. He thought it was funny._

_"And what did this dick of a coach do to deserve such a cruel ass fate?"_

_Trevor looked over with a raised eyebrow. "Ass fate?"_

_"You know what? Forget I said anything."_

_"Why? Because your cracked ass brain can't come up with a better insult?"_

_"Ah fuck forget I said anything."_

_"Don't get all butthurt over it. Or was that an area that you broke too Michael." Trevor flicked Michael's hip to prove his point._

_"Ouch T! Stop it!" Michael flicked his hand away and got all moody._

_Trevor rolled his eyes at Michael's over the top reaction. "If you must know Michael my coach was an asshole because he said I wasn't any good. And apparently I was too rough with the opponents." He elbowed Michael's side. "Guess we have that in common bud."_

_Michael just crossed his arms and frowned at the ceiling as though there were a crossword puzzle written accross the ceiling. "Yeah I suppose so."_

_"In all honesty assholes have a lot of blood in them. Fucking moron didn't even see it coming either."_

_"So what position did you play?"_

_"I was a goalie mostly. Though I was put on left and right defense as well. And sometimes left and right wing. Pretty much an all around player."_

_Michael smiled mischievously at Trevor and said slyly "I can see you in a goalie hockey mask. Please tell me you were wearing your goalie mask when you did the dirty deed."_

_Trevor squinted hard at the ceiling as he tried to form a mental picture. He was a goalie at the time and it had been just after a game. He idolized his coach as the most amazing man who ever walked the planet and would have licked the floor he walked on to have gotten closer or to please said coach. After all Trevor had done standing on the ice after a game and being smacked around and cursed at and called "worthless, cunt, monster, useless, wrench" over and over just because he could was not the kind of thank you Trevor wanted. Without thinking when the coach went to pick up the clipboard to cut Trevor off the team he shoved the stick into the coach's ass._

_"I mean it was the top of my head but I don't think I was wearing it on my face."_

_Michael continued to laugh and then with starry eyes he raised and moved his hands across the air like he was rolling out an invisible story map in his mind (which in all honesty he probably was). "I can see it now. Fucking terrifying."_

_"What?"_

_"You in a hockey mask rising up on the ice with that little freaky face you do whenever you are about to take someone out?"_

_"You mean like this?"_

_"Exactly! Just like Jason Voorhees!" Michael was now full-blown laughing and shaking the entire bed. " Only instead of a machete, you used a hockey stick! That would be so goddamn terrifying! Your poor coach!"_

_Trevor just sighed and rolled his eyes. "Sometimes Mikey I honestly wonder if I am the crazy one here."_

_"Oh don't worry. It's definitely you."_

The asshole who he had spoken on the phone with was even more of an asshole in real life. "Oh, ladies!"

If Michael wasn't here _oooohhhhh._ "God, you're an asshole."

That one guy with a cigarette in his mouth in the shadows was recognizable. Trevor had seen him from somewhere. But this other jackass. "You you back there! I know you! But you! I don't know you!"

The jackass rolled his eyes and replied with the "Yeah and until I see reason otherwise why don't we just keep it that way." Michael and this asshole should hang out. Using tired movie quotes to substitute for being an imaginary badass. "Oh Steve it was my pleasure bro! Oh!"

Trevor and Michael descended into the lion's den with Trevor unknowingly placing a protective arm in front of Michael. He watched jackass number one ascend the stairs and grinned to Michael as he said loudly "He reminds me of one of those guys you see advertising pills for middle-aged men who can't get erections." 

Michael didn't laugh or even crack a smile. Just nervously looking around the room. Even in the midst of heists Trevor and Michael used to crack jokes but now Michael was just a stick in the mud. What the fuck had happened to his friend? 

"Hey Devin Weston is a very good friend of mine so why don't you watch your tongue. Cause let me tell you something that guy gets more tail than a tail catcher." 

Good fucking God did everyone who worked with the FIB have the worst sense of humor and no self-awareness? No wonder Michael liked these assholes so much. 

"I'll have to fucking remember that line." 

The Suspicious Douchebag was currently turning his head to the side. He looked so familiar. Trevor just couldn't put his finger on where they had seen each other before. 

"You! Where did we meet?"

The guy took a drag of the cigarette and blew slowly before answering. "Nowhere pal."

"Yeah, we did." 

Dave. Fucking. Norton. 

_"Ah, dude. I'm sorry. Does it hurt? I didn't mean-"_

_Trevor didn't realize he was crying until he reached up with the arm that wasn't currently being tattooed and felt the mosture on his face. That had been happening more and more as time went on. He felt numb. Empty. Like a piece of him had been taken out of his heart, his soul. And it had._

_Michael was gone forever. Forever. What a stupid word. Fuck forever. Fuck feelings. Fuck these tears. And fuck Dave Norton. If he ever saw that fuck face who had plastered his face all over TV openly bragging about killing Michael Townley he swore to God he would make some kind of torture that had even been invented just for him._

_Michael. Was. Dead._

_Michael. Was. Dead._

_Michael. Was. Dead._

_And he was never coming back._

_The tattoo artist (Sammy or whatever his name was) stood to grab some tissues from the front desk which he promptly handed to Trevor and gently rubbed his back in soft comforting circles._

_"We can take a break if you want. Get you some water? Serena baked some oatmeal cookies for the staff today if you'd like one?" It was said with such understanding and it wasn't helping with his emotions. The numbness turned into a hot poker pain of sadness and the light in the room and the pair of brown eyes staring at him became too much and he raised the unoccupied hand to his eyes to block it all out as his body was racked with waves of uncontrollable sobbing._

"Hey ho. What are we doing here huh?" Ah. The snake spoke. 

How could Michael have done this to him? His best friend? Locked him out of his life for nine years. 

"This!" And Steve was pushing the half-naked man they snatched from the IAA building. He looked like shit. Bruises on his legs and arms and a nice shiner forming on his right eye. 

"Please! Keep that sick bastard away from me!" The beaten down man was pushing his legs to go back into the hole he came from as Steve held his neck and back tight and continued to push him forward towards Trevor. 

"No, no Ferdinand he's gone. He's gone. It's okay. I got some new friends here now." Steve Haines was a fucking sick asshole. Trevor knew as he was one himself. 

Trevor knew where this was going. Jesus Christ. 

"This is Michael and this is Trevor."

Steve shoved the guy into the chair and Trevor moved around to get a closer look at the man who was currently begging for his life and looking as though he was going to piss himself when he looked at Trevor. Trevor gave the guy some space as Norton began making a big show of explaining the entire situation. No. Not explaining. Giving bullshit excuses. 

"Now our friend here he claims he doesn't know anything."

"No. I don't know anything. I don't. I already told. Nothing. I don't know an-an-anything. " Steve was taping his legs to the chair as he said that. Michael's face was growing more and more pale as he slowly came to realize what the actual fuck was going on. Trevor almost laughed. Michael was always a bit of a pussy when it came to matters like this. In fact, Trevor used to make it his business to keep Michael away from this kind of shit. 

After Steve cut the restraints from the guy's hands the dude made a pathetic last-ditch effort to beg for mercy by clasping his hands together in a prayer motion and saying in a broken pleading voice "Please. Please sir." Trevor crossed his arms as he watched the scene unfold and shook his head. Poor bastard. 

"You know about the Azerbaijanis?"

"Huh?"

"Azerbaijanis!" Steve ripped a piece of tape off as he said that and began pinning the man's hands to the armrests of the chair as the man continued to plead. 

"I do audiovisual high file audiovisual. He's top man, good price, VIP you know?" 

Steve reached over to pull out a gas can of water before shaking it with a saditisc sort of pleasure in his eyes. "You're a fucking spy!" 

"Oh no no no no. I'm not spies."

Steve reached into the drawer to pull out a pair of plyers which he proudly gave a quick visual squeeze to seeming to gain a rise from the man before him's rising terror. Trevor looked over to Michael who was currently turning his face towards Dave. As though fucking Dave was going to do anything about it. 

"And the asswipes at the agency know this-"

The man shook his head with a small "No-"

"So I need to know what did you tell them and what did they tell you?"

"I-I told them. What I tell you."

"Uh-huh." Steve moved a table beside the hyperventilating man. Michael looked at the ground. Trevor watched Steve and Michael symotaniously. 

Steve pulled out suction cups and begin placing them on the man's chest as he tried to wiggle away. "What? I-I-what is this?"

"It doesn't hurt. Relax."

"The house in Rockford Hills. The man who owns it he works at the consulate. That is all I know."

Steve got close to his face and said in a mocking tone "That's it?"

"That's it! That's it!"

Steve rolled his head and motioned towards Trevor. "We're gonna make him speak."

"No! No! No!" 

Trevor gave an "it's out of my hands" motion towards Michael. He wasn't about to get blamed for being a psycho for this one. Michael's eyes were darting back and forth between Trevor and Dave. Steve grabbed and case and shoved it into Michael's hands. Trevor scooped up the pliers to look at them closer in this 80's police integration sitcom lighting. Damn. Steve had good taste. 

"You two are gonna drive up to Rockford hills and when we find out which man is the problem you put him down cause I'm tired of these fucking nitwits at the agency taking all the glory."

Trevor could just tell by Michael's face he was about to say something stupid. And he did. 

"Alright, the fuck is all this huh?" Based on the tightened muscles and the white-knuckled fist against the case Trevor could see Michael was just barely keeping it together. Although Trevor wanted Michael to release the beast sooner rather than later now was not the time. They were in a warehouse with only one exit point that they currently were not at an advantage point to escape through. 

"I think it's a good time buddy."

"But-"

"Go for a drive."

"You can uh get to work and I'm not here." It was really cute that Steve thought that he wasn't the Sadist here. Trevor was. But Trevor knew and could see in one's eyes when the driven pleasure is torture. 

Trevor watched Michael slowly ascend the stairs and waited for the car engine to start and the slow roll of tires making their way along a dirt path before turning to the disinfranchised man tied to the chair. 

"Hey, pal. One of life's greatest lessons is you just gotta let what happens happen. When I was seven years old my younger brother Ryan broke a vase and I got blamed for the entire thing as per fucking usual. My old man said that vase was worth a tooth and a nail so, therefore, that was what was going to happen to me. Now was I sobbing all over the place and making a complete fool of myself because I was scared? No. I just let what happened happen."

Trevor moved closer and opened his mouth wide to point to where said tooth had been removed. It was just a baby tooth but still. The man still wiggled around and cried like a little bitch though. Jesus Christ.

"So my teeth?"

Trevor shrugged. "Probably."

"Oh my God. Please no. I'll tell you anything you want to know. Please."

Steven sighed loudly. "If you told us the truth then you have nothing to worry about so shut the fuck up." As if Steve wasn't enjoying every one of the screams and shrivels of terror. At least Trevor was honest that all this gave him a semi. He wasn't hiding behind righteous patriotic bullshit. 

He turned back to inspect his tools of choice. Waterboarding as per fucking usual. He had done that a couple of times in that BDSM cult retreat he attended. A wrench. The fuck was this? What happened to all the tax money he didn't pay? Least they could do is provide more state of the art tools. Oh and some jumper cables. Spicy. And a syringe he was probably going to take in lieu of payment when all this was done. 

"So I have a question." 

Trevor ignored Steve as he had more important things to focus on. If he was going to do a job he was going to do it right. He also needed to decide what the fuck he was going to do about Michael. Something was going on and it looked fucking suspicious when the man who had "killed" Michael Towley and put Brad in prison was just here making Michael and him do all this shit. Or perhaps he should call Jimmy again. See if he had gotten those bank statements yet. 

"Look sir. Listen to me. I need you-I need to listen to me. You look like good man."

Trevor turned to the poor guy and shook his head. "Yeah not so much. Why the hell do you think they have me doing this shit while cheap golf club polo over there sits on the wall? Because he doesn't want to get blood on his khaki homoerotic sweat pants. I'm the scary monster in the room who does crank. He's just all smoke and mirrors. If you wanna get all whiney whine that way because I can't fucking help you. I'm just the hired help."

"Yeah. This fucker is a drug dealer. Meth lab shit and he killed three police officers last week and apparently killed thirty different kinds of hipsters last night at the bean machine. Looked like something out of a fucking horror comic."

"Thirty-seven. Get your numbers right."

Steve's phone started buzzing. "Here we go Mr.K. Moment of truth. Hello? Okay. Okay. Okay. Uh you sure you don't want to silence him just to make sure?" 

Steve hung up and began barking orders. Trevor had stayed mostly turned around at this point. He didn't think Michael would appreciate him gouging out Steve's eyeballs. 

"Turns out that was the wrong Azerbaijani! We need a new address from Mr. K. Choose your instrument and go to work on him."

Here goes everything. This was pretty fun actually. Great way to work out some stress before dealing with Michael and his equally useless son. 

"Where do we start eh buddy?" 

"Wait. What are you talking about wrong guy? No. Who do you want? Just tell me what you want. Huh, man? Look at me. Please."

Well, he had promised teeth. Might as well start with that. Besides he couldn't let a nice pair of plyers go to waste. 

"Now if you open real wide I might be able to just reach back there and grab one of those big ones."

Trevor had three of his front teeth knocked out in hockey when he was only eight and Trevor had told the tooth and nail story. And this guy was still acting like getting one tooth pulled was the end of the fucking world. God. 

"Not the plyers!" Mr. K began to pull his head away as though that was going to help anything. "Are they sterilized?" 

Out of all the things to ask. Trevor just stared down at him for a second before moving quickly to grab Mr.K's hair pulling his head back while forcing his mouth open. Mr. K was providing too much resistance so that was good. Just like ripping off a fucking band-aid. The tooth was a lot harder to get out so Trevor had to really work his shoulder into it. He should ask Michael for a massage later since he was doing this shit because of his fucking stunt anyways. 

Once it popped out Trevor threw it to the floor and turned to Mr. K. "Best way to make a man talk is to stop being able to make him talk." Jesus. Sarcasm. Really? Trevor blamed it on the adrenaline rush he was getting from all this. Always made him get out of control. 

"Dat urts oo mush." 

Trevor tilted Mr.K's head up right so he wouldn't swallow his own blood and choke. Last thing he needed right now. As soon as he removed his hand Mr.K's head moved down. Trevor forced it up again and then turned to slam the plyers on the table and rolled his shoulder back. Michael was right. He was out of shape. 

"Mr. Phillips. Ask him about Tahir Javan."

"Why didn't you ask me? I know Tahir." 

The sickening smile Steve gave Mr. K when he said that. Perhaps Trevor should pull out his tooth too. 

"I did his home theater. He lives in Chumash. The right on the western highway."

"Well that wasn't so tough not was it?"

God Trevor wanted to put a boot up Haines's ass. 

"Did you get that? Did you hear him? He lives in Chumash. The Western Highway."

Trevor turned back to the tools.

_"Yeah, I'm the asshole? Look at yourself. This family shit is making you soft."_

_A broom closet at Lester's place was not the best place to have a shouting match but it was the middle of a blizzard and Lester and the rest of the crew told them to bite it or leave it. They choose the later._

_Michael crinkled his nose at that. "Family shit? I understand you're a deranged psychopath who needs to have his dick chopped off before he spreads the crazy seed to some poor unfortunate soul but could you kindly not refer to my family as shit! And fuck you! I don't want to do the job! So what? It's fucking stupid and we are all gonna get our fucking brains blown out! Just because you don't care about anything but I have a family to go home to!" He almost knocked three jackets off their hangers with that dramatic fucking Vinewood motion he always did. Trevor was between wanting to punch him or kiss him. Fucking Townley._

_"Yeah! Remind me for the twentith time in the past hour!"_

_"Shut the fuck up!"_

_"You first! I should have left you to get your ass beaten in the snow of Canada!"_

_"Yeah! You should have! Then I won't be here for this fucking conversation!"_

_"Yeah, and your kids won't have a pathetic piece of shit they call dad! An alcoholic asshole! Just like his father!"_

_Michael didn't respond for a good few seconds. He just nodded his head and Trevor saw his tongue move across his top teeth inside his mouth._

_"I'm going out for a smoke." Michael shoved past him and almost tripped over the door on the way out._

_At the time if Trevor was thinking straight he would have given Michael space but it felt like Michael was slipping through his fingers like sand. Getting farther and farther away with each passing day. So he kept the argument going._

_"You know for a guy who didn't suffer as nearly as much childhood trauma as I did you sure seem to be the ass in this relationship!" Michael stumbled into his shoes and headed out into the snowy blizzard and just kept walking._

_"Michael! Michael!" Fuck this shit. Trevor shoved on his coat and boots and attempted to chase Michael. "Michael! Michael!"_

"Yeah...err...I'll take care of it." Steve put a hand over the phone. "Loosen him up."

"Oh no no please I'll tell you what you want to know!"

"What!" Trevor had been daydreaming. Too lost in a daydream on a wish or what might have been. To be honest this shit was becoming depressing. Just like the monster everyone always made him out to be. Even his own mother had thought so. 

"Loosen him up!"

"No! Please!"

Wrench it was. It won't be so bad. If Michael could survive being in a shed for two fucking weeks with two broken legs in the middle of July at the age of twelve Mr.K surely could survive a broken kneecap for a few hours. 

"The anticipation is always worse." He said it as he scooped up the wrench and slowly walked over to Mr.K who was currently trying to back his chair away. Tightening muscles would only make it hurt worse. 

"Really? Isn't there a smaller one?" 

No. Trevor saw the location and took a swing. "Watch the knee!" He turned to put it back on the fucking table. 

Steve was getting all up in Mr.K's face and snapping and whistling like he was some dog or something. Reminded Trevor of his father. Or at least half of them. Just when he thought he couldn't get any more hateable. 

"Hey...hey...hey...now? Huh? Now you ready to talk?"

"I've been ready to talk since the day I got kidnapped six weeks ago."

"That's what we were afraid of." 

A fly flew on Mr. K's face and landed in the middle of the dried blood on his cheek. Trevor took his thumb and crushed the insect before wiping it off the guy's face. No one deserved to have a fly on their face like that. 

"Now I'm even more willing to talk."

Trevor stared down at the dead fly on his thumb. All crushed and broken open. _I know exactly how you feel bud._ Trevor thought to himself. 

"So yeah? Yeah? Yeah? This guy we're after what does he look like?"

"Average build."

"C'mon."

"Average height. Middle-aged."

"Yeah, yeah sounds like you're stalling. This better be enough."

"Dark hair."

Steve turned to go and scream into the phone. "Middle-aged middle height middle build whatever."

Mr. K looked up a Trevor and in him, Trevor saw the eyes on a broken man. "I don't know what you want me to tell you." Trevor just rolled his eyes at him. Honestly, the fuck did he think Trevor was going to do about it.

"He's dark. He's Azerbajaini for God's sake! Look around is that enough for you!" 

Mr. K began to choke on his own blood and Trevor tilted his head up so he could spit it up. He didn't mind that some of it got on his hands. Trevor let go of his chin and patted his shoulder. "It's almost over. It's almost over," he mumbled and hoped it was somewhat comforting. 

This guy clearly didn't know anything. He was just listing off random shit. Steve Haines knew this. He just wanted to stall the torture. Trevor honestly couldn't blame him. They had been in this stinky hot warehouse for almost a fucking hour now. 

Steve sighed loudly and turned to Mr.K. "That ain't gonna cut in my friend."

Genuine terror leaped into Mr. K's voice. "Shit. Shit. I, I let me think, I-"

"BZZZT! SORRY TOO LATE! Trevor show our contestant what he's won today!"

"Wait I remember...wait wait wait!"

"Okay!" Trevor said in what he hoped was a convincing mock tone of whatever the fuck that whole shitshow was and even added a little hand clap. Fucking Christ. 

Perhaps the shocking would be best. Trevor liked to shock his nipples at time. Who knows? Maybe he was about to help Mr. K find he new kink.

"This'll put hair on your chest."

Mr.K was practically bouncing up and down to try and avoid the shockers. God, they didn't even hurt that bad. Mr. K was acting as though Trevor was coming at him with a disemboweling machete.

"Not the clips! Not the clips! I'll die!"

Trevor rolled his eyes as he came to stand in front of him. 'I'll die.' What a fucking drama queen.

"No clips!" 

Trevor put the first one on his left nipple.

"Don't do it!"

Yeah they were firing up. Of all the times to have bad stage performance. Trevor ripped it off Mr.K's nipple and smacked them together to produce an electical charge. 

"Come on!"

Still wasn't enough. He did it again. 

"No, no, no!"

There it was!

In one swift Trevor clipped both Mr.K's nipples and sent electrical currents flying through his body and released. Had to keep the heart going. His nipples weren't smoking yet.

"You'll kill me!"

Trevor smacked the clips together. 

"Shit please!"

Trevor put the first clip on the right nipple this time. 

"My heart! No no!"

Other clip was on and there went the electrical pulses. Trevor took them off and looked towards Steve who was still motioning for Trevor to keep going. Fuck. 

He smacked them together twice as Mr. K whined "Nooo!" 

Still wasn't enough. Trevor did it again.

"I am cooperating! Please!"

Trevor smacked them on the nipples and felt the vibrations in his hands. He released but Steve kept motioning for more. Sadistic fuck. 

"I'll die!" 

Trevor peeked over at the heart monitor to make sure he wasn't about to kill this guy. 

"No clips! Don't do it! You'll kill me!"

Trevor smacked the clips together. 

"Wah!"

This time Mr. K started dripping spit all over himself. Trevor had to admit it was pretty funny.

"We need him moderately coherent!"

Trevor released them.

"You see his face when I did that! Ha ha!"

Steve stalked over as Trevor was putting the clips down. 

"So what have you got for us? Hmm? We need Trev to shake up your memory again?"

"No no no!"

What was it with this guy? Hadn't he learned by now the pleading only made Steve want to do it more.

Trevor got up near Mr.K's face and with a mocked it back to him. 

"Please no no no please no! No, he's got beard!"

"Oh, he's got a beard huh?"

"Yes! He's got a bushy beard!"

Trevor couldn't help but laugh at this entire thing. Completely fucking stupid that Steve was choosing to ignore the obvious fact that this guy didn't know shit. 

"Uh-huh? I think your making this up!" 

"No no. I'm not."

"Huh? Yeah?"

"No no! I'm telling the truth!"

"Yeah? Bushy beard?"

Steve turned back to the phone. "Got any beardy types at this party? Huh?"

Trevor tilted his head and did the creepy thing with his eyes that made grown men cower in fear. It worked and it was pretty fucking hilarious. 

"No please no!"

"Because that's all Mr. K's giving us! You know I'm thinking maybe we ought to take two bullets and put them in our informant and just call an Airstrike on Chumash Beach."

Trevor made a half-lidded smile towards him. The creepy one. Reminded him of clowns when he was a kid. Trevor couldn't help but let out a chuckle when Mr.K actually started pissing himself at that. 

Steve finally got off his fucking phone and leaned over Mr. K with a taunting voice. "It's gonna be a long day until you give us some intel on our target."

"He's he's got beard. He smokes he smokes like a fucking chimney!"

Trevor wanted to smack himself in the forehead at that. God damn. This guy did not learn his lesson at all. 

"I I don't know. Trev maybe one more time? Just to be sure." 

And what was with this "Trev" nonsense. Only Michael got to call him that. 

"Uh huh."

"I told you he smokes! That's all I know."

Waterboarding was all that was left now. 

"If my mama had waterboarded me more often I wouldn't be the gun-toting psychopath you see before you now!" He gave Steve a face but the guy just didn't seem to get it. 

"It's torture! It is!"

_Yeah, thanks Captain fucking Obvious._

"My mouth! I will drown!"

This guy was too dramatic. Honestly. 'I'll die from this. I'll from that.' Jesus his mom almost drowned him a sink once like this. It wasn't all bad. Fuck. Mr. K was acting like Trevor was about to cut his head off or something. Trevor flipped the chair over and let out a small chuckle. 

"I got blood in my mouth! I will drown!"

Trevor put the cloth over his face. 

"Look at me. I'm a genuine government man."

Trevor began pouring the water all over him. He let Mr. K breath then did it again. Breathe. Then do it again. He checked the heart monitor. 

"Always by the book. That's my vibe." 

Time to pour the water again. 

"Help me pick this up!" Trevor called over to Steve as he ripped the cloth off Mr. K's face. Standing in the corner. Least he could do is try and help with some of the heavy lifting. This was his operation after all. 

"I'm alive! I'm alive!"

Trevor rolled his eyes as Steve pulled the chair upright.

"Today's lesson is about government regulation."

"Lesson? This is meaningless!"

And Mr.K hit the nail on the head with that last part. This whole thing was meaningless. 

Mr. K was full-blown sobbing now. That wasn't even the worst part of all of this. Trevor just didn't understand these low pain tolerances. It's like everyone in Los Santos had thin skin. 

"Mr.K?"

"Please. I don't know anything. Please."

"Mr. K?"

"I don't anything. Please."

Steve caressed his face with a soft shhh. For Trevor, this was like looking into a fucking mirror and he hated it. 

Steve sighed. "It's okay."

"He chain smokes and he's left handed."

Steve leaned closer. "What's that?"

"He chain smokes and he's left-handed."

"Ah okay."

Steve walked off. "Any of these bearded guys at the party smoke cigrettes? Mr. K says he smokes like a pack or two a day."

"Redwood cigrettes."

"Thank you Mr. K"

After a few seconds Steve put his phone down with a whoop. Looks like Michael had killed some guy who was probably innocent because Mr.K clearly didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. God Steve was a fucking asshole although it was nice to finally have someone around here who appreciated the metrics of torture but not for information because as today proved it was meaningless. What could he say? Electric shocks always gave him an arousal and it wasn't his fault. This FIB prick made him do it. 

"That is a wrap my friends. Excellent work the pair of you." Steve came over and flicked Mr. K's shoulder causing him to flinch. "Now I've got a rachetball game to get to so Trevor you take care of Mr. K I think we're all set."

Good fucking God.

"What the fuck do you want me to do with him?"

"I would say he's outlived his usefulness."

Trevor sighed and grabbed the plyers.

"Oh come on. Please." 

"Shut up!" Really now. Getting all upset when he didn't even know what Trevor was about to do. It reminded Trevor of Michael from a few days ago. Getting all upset when Trevor didn't even threaten him. Jesus Christ everyone in Los Santos was so judgemental. 

"That's a sport!" Steve called as he practically skipped up the stairs. Sick fuck. 

Trevor used the plyers to undo the restrants and slowly tried to lifit Mr. K. "Let's go. Come on."

"Wh-where are you taking me to?"

"Fuck let's just go okay? I ain't gonna let those G-men fucking scumbags tell me what to do." 

"Then why did you just torture me?"

"Don't ask too many fucking questions." 

Mr. K tripped and fell face first on the steps. Honestly he wasn't even hurt that bad. Trevor had been hurt way way worse in the past and was nearly acting as whiney as this fucking pussy was. 

"Let's go! Get up! Come on! Up the fucking stairs!"

When they finally got out of that heated sauna of a warehouse the air was much cooler and it was nighttime. No the sun was rising. Or setting. Everything was confusing. Trevor walked over to his truck and opened the door and Mr.K decided to fall on these outside steps too. Now he was just being overdramatic. This was getting old really fucking fast. 

"Oh for fuck's sake. Come on." Trevor dragged Mr. K over to the car and helped him into the truck. "Now you've got a flight to catch. Okay? Let's get you to the airport."

Trevor slipped into the truck and proceeded to do Mr.K's seatbelt. "Oh safety first."

"Hey how's your mouth?"

"It hurts"

Jesus Christ. One tooth. He pulled out one tooth. Mr. K was acting like Trevor pulled out his whole jaw. 

"Well can you speak?"

"Kinda."

"Are you gonna hold it together?"

"I want to go home. I want to see my family."

Trevor rolled his eyes. So Mr. K was a crybaby bitch and a moron. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

"No no no. You have no home. That shit is over."

"I do. They're in Morningwood. I love them very much."

"No. That's your old life. You're off the grid. You're one of the invisible people."

"Just take me home!"

This guy just really did not get it at all. 

"I am taking you to the airport. You are going to get on a plane. You're flying a long way from this country and you're going to spread your message."

"I don't have a message!"

Fucking...did Trevor really have to hold this moron's hand through everything?

"You're a torture advocate!"

"Advocate?"

This guy just became dumber and dumber every minute. How the fuck could someone be this blind to what was going on? Oh. Well Michael wasn't here right now so he didn't count. 

Trevor sighed and explained hastily. "The media and the government would have us believe that torture is some necessary thing. We need it to get information, to assert ourselves. Did we get any information out of you?"

Mr. K looked as though he was seriously considering killing Trevor at this point. Trevor would have enjoyed seeing him try. "I would have told you everything!"

"Exactly! Torture's for the torturer. Or the guy giving the orders to the torturer. You torture for the good times. We should all be able to admit that. It's useless as a means of getting information."

"Im feeling light headed."

"Now sometimes you torture for the torturee but only if they're prepared to pay."

"I'm very unwell."

"It's me me me me me with you. Jesus Christ good grief. I thought we really bonded but now I'm having my doubts."

"I need to get to the hospital."

"Nah you're fine."

It wasn't even that bad. Dude was acting like Trevor had cut off his foot. They couldn't get to the airport fast enough. 

"I can assure you I am not."

"No one likes a crybaby. You look great."

"Let me see the mirror. I think I need a hospital."

Trevor sighed loudly. "You are not going to a hospital. You need to leave."

"Who are you and why are you helping me?"

"I just told you. I don't like being told what to do."

"Then why are you working for the FIB?"

Good question. Real fucking good question. Maybe he'd ask Michael the same thing later on. For now Trevor could make up some BS.

"I'm a double agent."

"Yeah then who you work for? The IAA?"

"The IAA want you dead as well. Don't you remember? Jesus! Keep up."

"The Marshal? Globopol? Who?"

"Globopoo? Did you say Globopoo? I work for the forces of sanity."

"Sanity?"

"And we need you to tell the world what happened to you from the safety of a foreign government. Preferably a dictatorship."

"What do you mean?"

"You've got a message. You are a message. Yeah?"

Mr. K looked confused still. Trevor growled. "Okay look. I love torture. Torture for the sake of torture that's my bag. But there are people in our government, in the media who think that torture is a means to an end. They think it'll get them somewhere. _We_ gotta call bullshit on that. Torture's not gonna make you normal friends or get you information."

"I am slipping out of consciousness. Am I dying?"

"Arugh! You're not dying! You're being a bit of a wuss! I know people who would pay good money for what you just enjoyed. I would."

And finally they were at the airport. 

"Departures. No one drives me to the airport." _Stupid airports. They always remind you of how lonely you truly are._

"Here we be." Trevor walked along to the other side of the truck and opened the door and pointed towards the enterance. "Run. You're free."

"But my family's here."

"Your family is probably the ones who got you fucking in here alright?" _Just like someone else I know._ Trevor leaned closer as though there were cameras from the FIB listening in. There probably were. "Alright look. Trust no one alright? You're alone now?"

"Really?"

"Yeah really now let's go. Fuck off. Come on."

Mr.K fell onto the sidewalk and slowly picked himself back up as Trevor climbed into the truck and then Mr. K proceeded to fall down the stairs to the lower terminal. Trevor didn't have time to deal with this. The sun was almost up. Time to see if Jimmy was up.

"Uncle T?"

"Pork chop! How are you?"

"Pretty shitty actually. I want a new dad."

"Yeah if I could trade your pop in I'd do it too."

"He's a hard guy to be close to."

"You use a hunting rifle. You'll only need about five hundred meters. Ha! No. I joke. I joke. Unless you are thinking about it in which case let's talk." If anyone was going to kill Michael it was going to be Trevor. Not his kids, not his wife and not the FIB since they all clearly couldn't do it right the first time. Trevor had apparently been quiet for too long because the phone hung up. Damn it! 

And Michael wasn't answering his phone. Typical. 

Well, Michael wasn't gonna talk and Jimmy was avoiding the subject maybe he could go and speak with that little new pal of Michael's. Franklin Clinton. 

Speed could replace sleep and would help him deal with this pest. If Michael was with Franklin right now he was going to lose his fucking shit. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah! Don't you step foot in this yard!" 

Oh great. Not this shit. He was just about to take Tanisha out to Pink Sandwich with the extra money he had boosted with Michael in the last score but of course Denise was trying to complicate things. Franklin would bet his soul fucking Lamar had something to do with this. 

"Why? It's half my house!"

Aunt Denise stood up and waved her hands around. "Nah! I'm gonna call the police!"

Franklin raised an eyebrow towards her. "Fore what?"

"Disloyalty boy!" She jabbed a finger towards him as he said that to emphasize the point.

"Disloyalty? What is you talking about?"

The door opened and Lamar and Chop came waltzing out of the house like they owned the place. 

As if he needed to ask. Lamar was behind the whole thing. As per fucking usual. 

"Don't act like you don't know what it is homebolio! You ain't been to the set, ain't came to none of the meetings." Lamar said shaking his head. Franklin clenched his fists. Stupid Lamar. And after all the times Franklin had saved his ass in the past week. 

"Mmmhmmm! Hanging out with old men! Ignoring your homies! Acting all superior! Your momma would turn over in her grave boy!"

Lamar nodded. "Mmmhmm!"

Unbelievable. 

"So you giving me a lecture about not being a good enough gangbanger?"

Lamar rolled his eyes. "Gangs is positive. That's all we got my nigga. That's our heritage." Denise put her hands on her hips and nodded with an "mmm" to everything Lamar was saying. 

"Ain't nothing positive about your crazy ass!" Franklin waved his arms around as Denise and Lamar just looked at him as though he had just summoned the Devil himself. Unreal. "Man where Tanisha at?" 

"She got more sense than to hang out with your sorry ass!" Denise said waving a finger in his face. Chop began growling and barking. Now even the dog was pissed at him. Great. "You know you always been like this boy! I say left you say right! I say become a doctor you say become a patient! I say...WHO IS THAT?"

Oh great. Michael's "it's complicated" pal just showed up. If Stretch got word of this it was going to be his ass. 

"Hello, missy." Trevor grinned like a cat as he moved closer to Denise with a lustful look in his eyes. Fucking disgusting. He already had to put up with Lamar pinning after his aunt's ass but now the world's walking and talking psychopath was gonna be a problem too. Thank the fucking Lord Tanisha wasn't here to see this shitshow. And to think he had gotten a nice hair cut and everything. "Franklin. You didn't tell me you had a sister."

Denise waved him off with a sly chuckle. "I'm Denise. Franklin's housemate."

Fucking disgusting. As if he wanted to see his aunt try and bone this crazy mother fucker. "And aunt! My mother's old dried up ass sister!"

Denise and Trevor both screamed simotaniously at him to shut the fuck up. Unbelievable. Franklin flipped the bird at both of them. 

Like some kind of seventies sitcom pimp, Trevor whipped out a stack of dollars. "Here. Darling. Why don't you get yourself something nice okay?" He moved a finger against her cheek. Franklin felt like he was gonna throw up all over the damn pavement. Disgusting. 

"Oh thank you this is this is seven dollars?"

Disgusting turned to downright horrifying as Trevor snarled "I said something nice. Not expensive. You wanna be a greedy fucking cow now? No? Now get the fuck out of here!"

Jesus Christ! Well at least finally someone told Denise off. It was only a matter of time. Denise just shook her and marched angrily back to house mumbling something about all men being the same. Feminists. Sheesh. 

Now to address the elephant in the room. "Man, what the fuck you doing here?"

Trevor rolled his eyes as though Franklin should already know the answer. "I'm here with the boy...no...the boyz."

"What?"

"I'm fucking new in town I'm making friends alright? Now let's party."

Franklin had half a mind to call up Michael to get him to bring his ass down here and deal with this shit. "Look I had plans on getting some rest until this clown and my aunt came and fucked that up." 

Lamar didn't even look offended and moved closer to Franklin to keep Trevor out of the conversation. None of his fucking business anyways. "My nigga I just came over here to holler at you about the little thing."

Urgh! It was too fucking early too deal with this shit! "Man I said I'm tired dog!"

"What fucking thing? I love things. I'm the king of things!" Trevor was practically jumping up and down and his fucking terrifying creepy eyes were getting all excited and moving between the two of them like a ball in a pinball machine. Probably on every drug under the fucking sun. Deranged indeed. 

Lamar held out a hand. "I ain't talking to you homie."

That only seemed to encourage him. "Hey let's go do something about the thing okay?" 

"What thing?" 

"I'm talking about the little Stretch thing man."

Trevor threw up his hands as though Lamar had just said the three of them were going to get drinks in the Caribean Islands. "Fucking beautiful! Perfect! It's a gang bang! Let's go! Come on!"

Franklin growled. He wasn't getting out of this. At least if a Ballar shoots him right between the fucking eyes he would be put out of his misery. 

"Man who is this fool?"

"Ah come on man. Don't worry about it. I'll tell you later."

"Where this nigga from man?"

"Man just come on!"

Franklin made a mental note to tell Michael everything. Franklin remembered with uneasiness their first meeting where Trevor got all emotional over him hanging out with Michael. Complicated history indeed. The least he was owed was an explanation from Michael on what the fuck was going on with him and Trevor because Trevor had acted like Franklin was coming to murder him or some shit. It was bothersome to know "hell on earth" knew where he lived now. 

Trevor hopped in the back and even let Chop in before him. The two seemed to be getting along well as Chop was rubbing up against Trevor's jeans and Trevor was smiling down at the animal and petting him between the ears. At least he wasn't a dog abuser. 

"So where is this thing happening?" 

Lamar looked at Franklin who just shrugged. "Uh down Groove Street."

"We shooting some shit up? Spraying some motherfuckers? I can drive by the best of em." Trevor was practically bouncing up and down. Acting like they were going to the pier or some shit. 

"Behave yourself, man. Lamar, what's happening? What you and Stretch set up?"

Lamar looked at Franklin as though he had just been elected town mayor. "We buying weight homie. Something that will move us up the food chain for real nigga."

Franklin shot that down quickly. "Nothing is real in this town nigga. Particulary when you and Stretch concerned."

Lamar didn't even look sad. "Man this is an investment opportunity. You got to speculate to accumulate."

Trevor put both his arms on their seats and leaned forward into the conversation. He smelled awful but Franklin would be damned if he was gonna tell him that. "Oh first rule of business!" Lamar seemed to light up at the praise. "Hey since we out here banging together either of you got some dust?"

Lamar looked towards Franklin for help. "Fool want to get butt naked?"

"Whoohoo I'll get whatever it takes me, homeboy." 

Gross. First his aunt and now his best friend. Fucking nasty. 

Lamar started laughing. "Homie's crazy man. So I've heard."

What the fuck was Lamar staring at Franklin for with that last bit? Trying to get emotional psycho all wired up to kill them both. Franklin was having a tough day but not tough enough to want to end up at the bottom of the ocean in pieces. 

"Eh any of y'all hear about the MC Clip fashion shoot thing that's going on round here?" 

"MC clip? Nigga since when you care about that fool?"

"Nigga I don't care. Shit! I'm just saying nigga! I don' care about nothin'! Ah. This the homie's house right here."

"Hey look. Everybody be cool man. Lamar about to do his thang alright." Franklin was saying it more to Trevor than anyone else. He just wanted this entire thing to be fucking over with. Every second spent around that meth head made him feel more and more like a death row inmate.

Once they got to the door Lamar turned to Franklin and Trevor and said "Hey be on point. This fool janky."

Great. Well, this was a fantastic way to do. Either that or get disemboweled by crazy man over here. If this went sideways Franklin was going to kill Lamar. Franklin stepped out of the shade to see the sun had risen in the sky fully now. He could not wait to get some proper sleep. Running around with a crazy dude named Don all night long was not his idea of a fun time. 

The door was opened and a single eye poked through the crack. 

"Courier service. Package to collect." 

"You got the grip?" Came the voice on the other side. Trevor was closing in near Lamar in one of those protective dad stances. Michael did the same shit to him a couple of weeks ago when they had first gone and done that helicopter thing for the FIB. One in which when things went south he would pull you away from the firing squad. 

Lamar opened the bag to show clean crisp cut bills. "Present and accounted for. You like that huh?"

The man opened the door all the way to reveal the block. Something changed in Trevor's face when he saw it but didn't say anything. Just kept watching Lamar like a dad watching their kid on the monkey bars waiting to run to catch them when they fell. It was weird. This entire thing was weird. 

"Sample?"

"Now we're talking."

The guy gave Lamar what he wanted and Trevor's frown grew deeper at this. Franklin started backing away. "So we good nigga right? Let's go!"

Michael had told him to not go anywhere near Trevor without him present. Firstly Michael wasn't his _whatever_ so fuck whatever he said and secondly Franklin could take care of himself. The fuck did Michael know about anything anyways. He knew the minute he fucked up Michael would boot his ass back into the streets just like-

"How about a taste?" Trevor said scowling deeper and deeper at the dude causing him to back further into the doorway. 

Franklin didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit. "No man! We leavin!"

"I want a taste of the other side of the brick!" Trevor put an arm out in front of Lamar as he said this. This was going down and it was going down fast. Franklin got ready to bolt when Trevor bit this fucker's ear off or some shit like that. 

"No you heard what your boy said. You're leaving!" 

Trevor pushed Lamar away from the door and began to pull on the brick. "Hey gimme. Hey gimme that!"

The brick broke apart to reveal drywall. "Whoa." Trevor broke off a piece and held it up for Franklin and Lamar to see. 

Franklin turned back to the guy who was currently trying to close the door. "What the fuck?" 

"Did we ask for a key or a fucking ounce!" Trevor threw the shit down on the ground. 

"Man that's motherfucking drywall!"

The guy turned and called out "Hey we got some motherfucking buyers remorse out here!" 

The man slammed the door as Trevor screamed "You can't fucking hustle a hustler!" before grabbing the back of Lamar and Franklin's collars and shoving them both to the ground behind a wall as Ballers came out and started spraying bullets everywhere. 

Trevor took out the guy in the yard and the fools coming in through a car. He moved them through the streets avoiding gunshots and all three of them killing and wounded Ballars wherever they came from. People were running inside their houses screaming. The ballers were yelling insults every which way bullets flying everywhere. Lamar and Trevor flinging insults right back at them. Damn. Trevor's laugh was the scariest thing Franklin had ever heard. Well besides his aunt banging Lamar in the next room. That shit would traumatize anyone. 

Then there were police sirens and loudspeakers. Fucking damn it Lamar!

"Here! We cut through left!" He followed Lamar and Trevor down to the quary where Trevor and Lamar was currently stealing some dude's jet ski. 

"Fuck my life man." Franklin mumbled as Lamar shoved him onto a jet ski with a woman screaming "what the fuck are you doing?" in his ear. He sighed as he started the damn thing up and began following Trevor and Lamar out of the quarry into the cove. He really hoped Tanisha didn't hear about this after promising no more gang stuff. He had already broken this rule three times in the past week. Three fucking times all thanks to Lamar. And now he was probably gonna get shot by these motherfucking ballars. Great! Just perfect! 

The woman jumped off the back of the jet ski as an LSPD chopper flew over blasting threats of arrest. And now he was gonna get arrested. Fucking perfect. If he and Lamar got put in the same jail cell _ohhhhh._ Tanisha was going to kill him. 

"Stretch set you up nigga! Yo big homie a snake!" Maybe Lamar would fucking listen to him this time. It wasn't likely but the least he could do was tell Tanisha he tried.   
  


"He didn't know they was playing him for marks! That on their door!" Of course. Always some excuse. 

"Man you deluded!" 

This wasn't just about gang shit for Lamar. Franklin knew that but he never had a dad either and he didn't need a father figure. Stretch was bad fucking news and always treated Lamar like this especially after his mom passed away. Everyone knew it but the only person who couldn't see that Stretch didn't give a shit about Lamar was Lamar himself. But no matter how much shit Stretch pulled Lamar was always ready to go and lay down his life for "his homies". They weren't his friends and they sure as fuck weren't his family but Lamar was acting like a fool. He never saw Franklin acting like an idiot and he had lost his mom at a way younger age than Lamar. Fucking idiot. 

They split up. Well sort of. More like Franklin and Trevor went one way and Lamar went another on orders of Trevor. Two hours ago Franklin would have never trusted this fool but he did just save both of their asses so what the hell. 

They got to the end of a canal and Trevor told him to climb the latter with following shortly behind. Trevor then shoved him into the passenger seat of a random car and said loudly "Let's take these assholes! RIght here! You and me!"

"Uh it don't need to come to that. Look just uh stick with me alright?" 

"Well, we got to lose this heat bro!"

Yeah no shit. The cops were closing in fast. 

"Dude! Man! Fuck! We gotta get out of here!"

"We'll lose em! Don't worry!" 

"Man the five o don't get the meaning of self-defense."

Trevor rolled his eyes. "Yeah, officer it all started when they didn't have the kilo of cocaine we pre-ordered!" 

"Man I guess that ain't gonna fly."

"The trouble kids get into."

"We ain't out of this shit yet!"

Trevor grabbed Franklin's neck and shoved him down into a bracing position as a bullet flew through the windshield. 

"I'm starting to get why Michael might have appealled to you as a mentor. You need help." 

Fuck. Not this shit again. 

"Fuck. I'll take whatever I can get."

Franklin tried to sit upright but Trevor shoved him back down. 

"You think we got time to go back for that drywall?"

"Man I think we outta lose the heat first."

"Alright. Cause y'know that drywall looked, you know, high quality. I mean we could make a fun night out of that brick."

"Man fuck you."

Trevor grinned at him as he took a sharp right. "Much as I like attention this is the wrong kind kid. I mean I can twenty five to life but you?" He shook his head. 

The fuck was that supposed to mean. Eventually, everything cooled down and Franklin was allowed the privilege of sitting back upright. "Just when you think they're gonna follow you forever."

"So this how it work for you and Michael back in the day?" Might as well make small talk and get some clue as to what the fuck was going on with the two of them. 

Trevor smiled fondly at the memory. "Mmm not quite. No gangs in the Midwest. Or if there were they weren't the cool ones."

"You guys ever get conned? You know licks like that? Cause it seems every time we go out together dudes trying to get over on us."

"That's the gang mentality bro. You're relying on the criminal element of being trustworthy. That's pathetic."

Franklin just scoffed. "Yeah, thanks dog. So what's the option?"

"You deal with civilians. Liquor stores, gas stations, armoured cars, banks, cash depots. Easy pots when you stack 'em next to a street full of tooled up homeboys."

"Man this always the way it plays out with LD man. Bunch of g'd up fools wanting us dead and nothing to show for it. Lamar man. Man I love this dude but damn I need to roll with some pros man what's happening?"

Trevor looked over at Franklin as though he had just said he lite a school of orphans on fire. "Whoa whoa whoa hey buddy buddy. Listen Lamar is your friend alright. Has been for years. Show him some loyalty okay?" His hands gripped tighter on the steering wheel. "What you think Michael's gonna be loyal to you? You can't buy that. You can't find that on the street. I was Michael's best friend and he let me think he was dead for ten years. You're a cheap gun who he's only just met."

Michael did that? Maybe that was the shit he kept saying he regretted so much. "Umm yeah okay man."

Shit maybe he was no different than Lamar. Latching onto the first older dude who paid him any mind. Stupid. Franklin wanted to smack himself on the forehead. He knew it was bad when the crazy fucker was acting more rational than he was. 

" _Ehh yeah okay._ Well just think about it."

Trevor drove up to Franklin's house and dropped him off. 

"So uh look, man. I guess we know each other now right?"

"That we do bro. I'll see you." Trevor gave him a good-natured arm punch as he exited the car. 

Franklin watched Trevor go and thought to himself _what the fuck just happened?_

All he knew was he needed to have a conversation with Michael about whatever the fuck was going on with 


End file.
